Loath in an Elevator
by NerdAngel
Summary: What happens when two beings who loath each other are stuck in an elevator?


**A/n: This one shot was made in honor of celebrating a truly phenomenal person and friend. LILYBolt, about five months ago, you got me a writing ideas book for my birthday. Now for yours, I've taken you request and a page from that idea start book and wrote you something that I hope fulfilled both. You're request "Sam and Crowley are trapped in an elevator for some reason, forcing them to spend more time together than they would like to. And perhaps more importantly, forcing them to talk to one another." As per the book "two people who hate each other are stuck in an elevator. What happens?" Without further ado, here's what I came up with.**

 **This takes place after 10X05 "Ask Jeeves."**

 **WARNING SPOILER ALERT for seasons 8 and season 9 finales as well as the beginning of season 10.**

 **I don't own SPN or any of its characters.**

Loath in an elevator

At first, he thought he'd been brought back to the dungeon located in the depths of the Winchesters' mystery lair. A second glance told him, not so much. He was in a cramped room, but unlike the dungeon, which was made up mostly of cement, this was made up of tile for the floor, and wood for the walls complete with numerous identical mirrors and big stainless steel doors. Rolling his eyes first to his right, he spotted the ultimate tell of where he was. Multiple buttons sat on a slab of more stainless steel, all with numbers next to them, save one with an *L and the other with a B. The one with a 15 was lit with a white light, indicating the floor he was currently on.

Now familiar with his location, the King was able to guess who it was that had summoned and trapped him and his guess was that it wasn't Tweedle Dee, but his less cooperative younger brother Tweedle Dum. The only question left was, is he wearing a smug smirk that indicated he needed help, or was he wearing a death stare which meant...well, exactly that?

The demon rolled his eyes to peer over at the giant man who stood towering over him with not even a slight upturn to his lips. So the latter, then. Much to Crowley's dismay, but as he expected, there was no older brother in sight.

"Moose," he addressed, "looking for some love in an elevator, are we? I'm a bit busy at the mo.' Call back never."

"You know damn well what I'm looking for," Sam said keeping his expression serious.

"I've returned your brother to you, what more do you want from me?"

"A cure. I need to know how to get the Mark of Cain off of Dean. For good. You're the one that got him into this mess, you're going to help me get him out."

Crowley pointed a finger in the Winchester's direction and squinted at him.

"Haven't we danced to this record before Samantha?"

The hunter furrowed his brow. "What?"

"If memory serves, that's the same tune you were playing whilst your brother laid dying. Or rather dead," the King taunted.

"You heard me?!"

"Of course I heard you. Don't be stupid, Moose. Just because I didn't come when you called doesn't mean I wasn't around. Honestly, you two are the most entitled little prats I have EVER had the misfortune to meet. You think that because you're the bloody Winchesters, I'm going to drop everything and help you? I told you when I handed your wayward kin over that I was washing my hands clean of him."

"Except it's because of you that Dean is in the situation he's in now!" Sam shouted pointing an accusing finger at the King.

"Now hold on just a tick," the demon roared back. "Am I the one that killed your brother ergo turning him into a demon? No, I am not."

"Maybe," the giant man nodded in mock agreement. "But Dean would have never had the Mark if it hadn't been for you in the first damn place."

Crowley tisked and slowly shook his head.

"Have you forgotten Moose? I know all about you and Squirrel and your latest misadventures. I didn't make your brother take the Mark of Cain. I didn't even talk him into it. He chose to take it all on his own." The demon tilted his head as a small smirk curled his lips. "Do you have any idea as to why that is?"

Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Abaddon needed to be stopped."

"Well, that's what Dean told you." Sam shifted his weight and squinted down at the demon before him.

"Don't act like you know my brother," he seethed. "You don't know ANYTHING about Dean."

"It gets your goat, doesn't it? That your big brother has come around to me. That he now sees me as someone to turn to, as family." At those words, Sam drew the demon killing knife he had acquired years ago and he held it close to Crowley's throat. Careful not to break the Devil's Trap he had spray-painted on the elevator floor to capture the King in the process.

"Let's get one thing straight. You will NEVER be seen by either of us as anything more than a means to an end. You understand me?! You are NOT and NEVER will be family!"

"You know what you're problem is Samantha? You're jealous."

"Jealous?" Sam echoed.

"I've seen enough envious wives who've found out about their cheating husbands to know the look. And my my, have you got it."

"What the hell are you talking about, Crowley?"

The King rolled his eyes. "I'm talking about Dean you daft giant."

Sam looked at him bemused. His hand wielding the knife not faltering from the demon.

"What about Dean?"

"You can't stand the thought of anyone else being there for your brother. Not even Castiel."

"Alright you know what. Forget it. You clearly don't know anything useful and I don't have time for this." The hunter pulled the knife back, tucked it back in his pocket, and jabbed his index finger at the button labeled *L. As the elevator they were occupying began to descend, the light inside flickered. Sam's gaze searched the ceiling then shot back to Crowley. "Are you doing that?" He asked shortly. The King only shook his head. Both demon and hunter turned their eyes to watch the number of the floors they passed flash red above the door as they counted down. Just as it reached the third floor, the elevator began to slow, screeching and shaking until it stopped altogether.

"Damn it," Sam cussed under his breath punching the button for the lobby multiple times with his thumb.

The demon gave the man a snarky grin.

"What's so funny? You're still trapped," he snapped seeing the demon's reaction.

"So are you," Crowley retorted. "What was that about time?"

The man glared over at the demon and gave the button one last hopeful push. When nothing happened still, he slammed his hands against the door and cussed once again.

"Give up Moose, not even the mighty wrath of a Winchester can get that thing to cooperate."

Sam pulled his cell from his pocket. In white letters "No Signal" appeared on his screen. The hunter returned the useless device and ran his hands through his hair, exhaling deeply. "Let me guess, Squirrel doesn't know you're here?" Sam ignoring him was all the answer he needed. "That's what I thought. Because you know if he knew, he'd be upset. After all, we were besties not that long ago. The honeymoon may be over, but the romance is still...somewhat there."

"Crowley...Shut. Up."

"Don't forget, I was there that night when you bore your soul to big brother. I heard you, Moose. I know what it is you feel whenever Dean turns to...well, anyone who isn't you." He tisked the hunter. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to share?" A smile slid across his face. "Oops, that's right."

"I know I've done wrong, and you know what? Dean forgives me for it."

"Which is more than he can say about you."

"What?"

"Poor dumb Samantha. Thinking he knows all there is to know about Dean Winchester." The demon paused for affect. "Dean didn't get the blade just to kill Abaddon. Your brother was punishing himself. It's a fetish, trust me, I know one when I see one. Being King of Hell, I've seen enough to make even the grimest of porn addicts blush. No. Dear self loathing big brother got the blade, and the Mark, because of you."

Sam tried to keep his face masked with an unamused look.

"I wasn't even there when he got it," he argued.

"Exactly." The hunter gave the demon a puzzled look, which he responded with an eye roll. "The way I heard it, nasty spiteful words were said, feelings were hurt, and Dean's 'self destruct' mechanism was activated. All I did was try to help your brother find his true calling. He could have been the best thing to happen to Hell since yours truly. He could have been the Bonnie to my Claude. The Sundance to my Butch Cassidy. The Thelma to my Louise."

"And how did you come to that conclusion? Did he tell you while you two were sharing an ice cream sundae over his demonic summer break?" He snickered.

"Like I said, besties. I've been there for your brother more than you have in this last past year. So tell me Moose, who do you really loath? Me? Or that giant staring back at you?" He moved his head in the direction of the multiple mirrors.

Sam's stomach turned and he fought back the urge to empty his stomach. He knew Dean hadn't exactly been himself, that he'd been a much more twisted and malicious version of his brother. However, he had still been Dean and by him running off and sharing how he felt with someone else, it told Sam two things. One: just because his brother was at the time no longer what they would consider to be human, he still had all the same feelings and memories as he did when he was. Two: when he had left that note telling Sam to let him go, he'd meant it not in a way that suggests for him to do his own thing, but in the sense of letting go of the burden he saw himself as. Dean really hadn't had any intention of finding his little brother, that was clear to Sam when even after he had been taken by Cole, his demonic brother had no intentions of locating him. He was ready to completely cut out the person that once was his life, why? Because he didn't want to be burdened anymore? Or because he didn't want to be a burden? Because it was easier to be able to justify his wrongs as a demon than to live with the guilt as a human? And as much as it disgusted the younger brother to say it, Crowley had a point. Dean received the Mark not long after they had had a talk that hadn't exactly left either of them feeling particularly warm and fuzzy which only led to an immediate split and more unkind words to follow. On the other hand, none of this would have happened if Dean hadn't run off with Crowley in the first place. Sam certainly wouldn't have allowed his brother to take on the demonic curse that was as old as time, not without knowing more about it as well as making sure that once it served it's purpose it could be removed.

As much as he wanted to blame the King of Hell, he found that he couldn't put all of the blame on him. Crowley hadn't helped any, but he also didn't make Dean do anything either. It had been a choice of his own making fuelled by angry and hurt words, self loathing, lack of self worth, and the strong need for redemption not just from the world, but from the brother he had wronged.

With all the fight drained from him, the hunter pulled out the knife again, bent down, and began to scrape at the Devil's Trap that had been holding the demon hostage. The King looked at the defeated giant and smirked.

"Till our next date then."

With those words, Crowley was gone, leaving Sam alone with only his thoughts for company in the elevator.

END

 **A/n: Happy Birthday! I hope you have a fantastic day today and I hope the story was at least decent. Thanks for being the best friend anyone could ever wish for!**


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